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Part two: Songlight

The lutenist’s sparkling eyes spoke only to her, played for her alone out of the crowd. He played to her of him, she knew, that she might better know.

He played of songlight, spilling sparkling from a minstrel all in blue. She heard the words ‘neath melody, the truth beyond the tune.

He played of breeze that blew him on, it drew her onward, too, and as he danced his merry way, she followed him, and knew that she would follow ever, blown by the song strumming her heartstrings, drawn by the lifelight of the man of music before her.